


Lesson Six; On Grandfathers and Very Easily Preventable Self-Sacrifices

by an_evasive_author



Series: Continued Studies of Fatherhood [6]
Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Childhood, Fluff, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-08-29
Packaged: 2020-09-29 18:28:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20440502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/an_evasive_author/pseuds/an_evasive_author
Summary: The joy of a grandparent is the ability to spoil without consequence. One may indulge one's grandchildren without fearing the consequences of too much sugar and neglected duties.Or at least Finwë thought so.Because he learns very quickly that such laissez-faire behaviour bears horrors too terrible to comprehend.





	Lesson Six; On Grandfathers and Very Easily Preventable Self-Sacrifices

Sometimes one got quite sick of getting nearly walked in on by children who did not respect the closed doors and opted for the windows. Some would have seen this as divine intervention not to have any more children to aggravate and worsen this problem, but Fëanáro did not care for signs of the gods and did as he pleased. Or at least he would have; Had there not been Tyelko storming into the room to shown his parents how far he could bend his fingers backwards.

Fëanáro _dearly_ wished to do pleasurable things to his wife and Nerdanel was quite receptive to these wishes, but Tyelkormo proved to be the single most efficient prophylactic there ever had been.

Therefore the only logical conclusion was to park his youngest with Finwë for the time being, just until Fëanáro and Nerdanel had gotten it all out of their systems. On second thought, they send Nelyafinwe and Kanafinwë with. Just to make sure; Things would perhaps get a little louder than usual.

And so, once a date had been picked and the children all gathered up, Fëanáro made ready to make them someone else's problem. At least for a little while.

“Once you are back,” whispered Nerdanel into Fëanáro's ear, quietly as not to have the children hear but enough to make Fëanáro's ear twitch, “I shall show you my new silken nightgown. So hurry then, husband. Because it shall come off one way or the other.”

And Fëanáro indeed did hurry as he picked up a shrieking Tyelko and sat him upon his shoulders so he would not run off. To his now too tall sons, he beckoned them along and laughed when the inevitable chase broke out.

Nerdanel watched them go, leaning against the doorframe as she watched them go and smiled. Then, once the silver of Tyelko's head had altogether vanished behind the hedges, she turned and made to prepare herself. No time could be wasted, after all.

* * *

They were not the first ones to arrive at Finwë's court; Nolofinwe and his brood had already gathered.

Irissë trundled around her grandfather, looking utterly, devastatingly bored. Off to the side, Nolofinwe's eldest sat off to the side and read a book. And peaking from behind Nolofinwe was Turukáno, shying back when he saw the new arrivals.

Nelyafinwe sidled up next to Findekáno who looked up from his book. Finwë, Nolofinwe and Fëanáro watched them exchange greetings before a shriek made them collectively swivel around and press their ears back.

“Irissë!” called Tyelko and bounded up the stairs to greet his dearest companion and confidant who received him with much the same enthusiasm.

He did not see his father and uncle exchange looks at each other; Burning glares that could have set fire to the garden, but Finwë did and clapped a hand to Nolofinwe's and Fëanáro's shoulders to startle them apart like one might a pair of growly dogs.

Nolofinwe snorted in surprise and ducked out the conversation the very moment he saw an opening. He kissed Irissë and stretched out his hand until Turukáno who still clung to it was pulled with it. Now so out in the open, Turukáno abandoned the hand he had been clutching to, fled behind Finwë and sought safety there with a startled bleating sound.

With some last goodbyes, Nolofinwe was off and Fëanáro found the mood far brighter in his absence.

“I greatly appreciate that you allow me some time with them,” said Finwë as he watched his grandchildren and smiled warmly.

Fëanáro, who greatly appreciated having them out of his hair, hummed. “Yes, though I wonder if you change your mind by the time I get them back.”

“But of course not; I still love _you_, do I not? And you drove me up the walls,” laughed Finwë.

“Atar, honestly. Stop bringing up such old tales; I am not a child,” said Fëanáro and did not blush nor flick his ears, for that would have been beneath his pride. Admittedly, if one's pride was higher than Ilmarin itself, many things were beneath it.

Instead Fëanáro watched his sons mingle, “Please, for stars sake, don't feed them so much sugar. I do not wish to pluck Kana from the ceiling because he cannot stop eating cake.”

Kana, not yet grown enough to contain the same pride and dignity his father carried so effortless and humbly, blushed red as beetroot.

Finwë smiled and it was quite obvious where Arafinwe had it from, “But of course. There will be lunch, a few games; Nothing too rowdy, I assure you.”

Fëanáro, who was _very_ eager to see that promised nightgown on Nerdanel, nodded and made to bid farewell to his children without questioning further. Nightgowns, especially flimsy ones made from silk, had a way of overwriting one's better judgment.

Kanafinwë was closest and got swept into a crushing hug as Fëanáro tried to put enough affection to last for the duration, “Be good while I'm gone. Do not do what I would not.”

“But I thought you just said to behave,” wheezed Kanafinwë and earned a kiss between the ears.

“Clever you are,” laughed Fëanáro and turned. “Nelyo, do try not to empty the buttery, will you? The palace is not prepared for your appetite,” called Fëanáro across the courtyard.

“Atar!” called Nelyo indignantly from where he stood next to Findekáno and his voice cracked. Now fully into adolescence, poor Nelyo had become somewhat lanky and mismatched. His legs had grown and made no sign of stopping, his shoulders were yet boyish but for how long would be anyone's guess. And of course his appetite had grown along with his need to point out his father's mortifying embarrassments.

“You are so embarrassing!” cried Nelyo and flushed scarlet as he pressed his ears back in abject, horrible shame. Fëanáro, who took to the role of the embarrassing parent with natural grace, grinned and kissed Tyelko goodbye before he was off.

Finwë waved and turned to his grandchildren. Fun was to be had. “Well, what shall we play first, my dears?” asked Finwë into the group.

They settled on tag.

* * *

Lunch came around and servants began to set the tables, one for the adults and the fun one, while Finwë searched for his last hidden grandchildren. The others had already wandered off.

“Will you come bug hunting with us later, Haru?” asked Irissë after Finwë had found them under the Hydrangea bushes. Here eyes sparkled hopefully and Finwë certainly saw why Nolofinwe could never refuse her.

Yet Finwë, ever diplomatic, waved the offer off, “Oh, dear ones, I was never one to venture out too far past my flowerbeds. I am not as brave as you.” He would never mention that the outdoors were quite revolting. Finwë did not bother with the things outside his castle and the meticulously kept garden. The gardens had butterflies and trimmed grass; The outside had bugs and wasps and hardly any plumping. But of course he would never tell his grandchildren that.

Tyelko and Irissë looked at one another, then at their grandfather. “We will have an adventure for you!” decided Irissë and Tyelko nodded.

Finwë laughed, “This you shall! And with great tales shall you regale me later.” He shooed them along, “After lunch.”

“_What's_ for lunch?” asked Tyelko and narrowed one eye in suspicion; Because if there were greens there would be running. Irissë held no such suspicions and slipped her hand into Finwë's larger one.

“Why,” said Finwë and smiled the smile of a grandfather who could spoil his grandchildren in peace, “Whatever you want.”

Tyelko, now smiling brightly, took Finwë's other hand and together they meandered up the path to where lunch and company awaited them.

* * *

In Tyelko's case 'Whatever you want' amounted to _a lot_ of meat, potatoes and very little else. The meat had been cut into small strips, sparing those around him the sight of pulling at it with his teeth like a wild dog. Sacrifices had to be made. At least he got it a little pink on the inside; Just enough to feel very savage and wild while not having to subject himself to eating actual raw meat. Because that sounded fairly disgusting.

Irissë ate corn on the cob, lathered in butter and sprinkled with salt. She held the slobbered on, half-gnawed cob out towards Tyelko who scarfed down his meat. “Do you want to try?”

“Don't like greens...” mumbled Tyelko between bites.

“Corn isn't green, see?” said Irissë and waved the very much not green corn in front of Tyelko.

Why indeed it was not, that made perfect sense. Tyelko went and helped himself to a large bite of corn before, in the unspoken law of trying from someone else's plate, offered some of his own.

Nelyafinwë, as well as Kanafinwë, had proudly graduated to the grown ups table which meant that now Nelyo could not herd in his younger sibling and half-cousins any longer.

Findekáno, also invited, had taken pity on his younger brother and remained at the smaller table, though his legs were drawn up quite high where he sat. Both brothers ate slices of an enormous quiche, filled with spinach, mushrooms and cheese.

Irissë and Tyelko both took one long look at the now empty chair where once the dreaded overseer had loomed and, after cake, made their escape without minding that others were still eating.

Adventures were to be had; Delay because of manners had no place in adventuring. Findekáno did not swallow his food in time to bark orders for them to return and it was rather easy to pretend to not hear him with his mouth full.

And so, with cakes from dessert in each hand as provisions for the grand journey ahead, they skipped along together and vanished into the undershrub and into the forest.

* * *

Kanafinwë contemplated the many mistakes he had made during his visit. His could-be third mistake still sat on the serving platter, all enticing with black currant jelly spread over honey drizzled dough. Indis was a fantastic baker, sinfully so. He felt ready to burst, actually, and yet the cake still did not look unappealing.

Everything after the second slice of cake was, in fact, a giant mistake. Oh, but if it wasn't so very tempting to throw caution to the wind and continue to indulge.

He turned his head from where he rested his chin on the sofa's armrest and saw his cousin stare at him. Turukáno had not spoken so far; merely peaked over the edge of his book. After seeing Kana's shameful display, it stood to reason if Turukáno ever would see anything in his cousin but a rapid beast tearing apart innocent cake.

“I'm sorry you had to see that...” said Kanafinwë and contemplated eating the slice regardless. There would probably be consequences for that. And yet; Did he care?

He truly did not. Yet.

Turukáno looked at him but cast his eyes downwards the moment Kanafinwë turned. Kana could hear a muffled chuckle from behind the thick binding of the book and the flip of a page. “Oh, that was nothing. You should see my brother when he truly gets going.”

Kanafinwë turned to regard both his own and Turukáno's older brother. Findekáno and Nelyafinwë sat at the table, tea and snacks laid out as they talked. “Oh?”

“Hmh,” Turukáno hummed and chuckled from behind his book. “It is carnage. He nearly lost his eye because he never takes the spoon out of his cup, too.”

“A shame I did not get to see it,” said Kana.

“It does get rather old after the first dozen times,” said Turukáno thoughtfully and seemed ready to vanish behind the pages once again.

Kanafinwë, who had the choice between drifting off into a food induced coma or lure his well-spoken cousin from behind his book.

It was not an easy choice to make, the weight on his eyelids and the cotton in his head made quite a good argument for napping. But then again...

Kana grabbed the slice of cake and held it out, “Will you do me a favour and eat this, please?”

When Turukáno looked at him with a doubtful quirk in his eyebrows, Kana dropped his head onto the plush pillow propping him up. “No good will come of it, should I continue to be exposed to this temptation.”

Turukáno chuckled again and finally the book came down, if only not to crumble cake all over it. “I see. Then I shall gladly sacrifice myself for your sake, cousin.”

“Wonderful,” smiled Kana and tried to turn before he flinched. His mistakes had finally caught up with him and he fell back into the pillow. He had definitely overdone it and now he was to suffer for it.

Whatever plans there might have been of wandering in the gardens were put on hold, Kanafinwë too busy suffering and Turukáno too occupied with his book. Oh, well, it was not as if they would be needed out there.

* * *

Irissë liked slugs and toads and beating each other with sticks in a purely friendly manner. This, more than anything, made her a great friend to spent time with and far superior than most other elflings, in Tyelko's humble opinion. They understood each other, which Tyelko appreciated greatly.

His ideas always sounded doubly good when Irissë agreed with him.

Her being smaller meant she could get into all the hidden nooks and crannies of rotten logs and mossy, slimy stones to fetch the very greatest of prizes. All manners of crawly, skittery things; Millipedes and slowworms, earwigs and even giant wetas.

All were gathered, inspected and hidden in shoes and drawers for safekeeping and amusement. That was always fun.

And why should Haru Finwë not enjoy the same kind of fun just because he would not step into the woods?

Tyelko said as much to Irissë as they scavenged for pill bugs. And because she was the very smartest elf Tyelko knew, she came up with a plan. “We should bring them to him,” said Irissë but wrinkled her nose at the roly polies they had found. “Not some small ones. Something good. So Haru knows what grand things one can find out here. Then he won't even want to stay in his garden.”

A flawless plan if ever there was one. Surely Haru would be thrilled. They set out at once, roly polies forgotten in search of greater bounty. The greatest there possibly was.

* * *

Findekáno could crack his joints quite impressively. Nelyo winced at the pops and cracks that came from his cousin who sounded like dry wood in the fireplace. Findekáno took a very special delight in watching his older cousin squirm. His grandparents gave no such indication and thus were not fun to tease.

“Ai-” began Nelyo and was interrupted by both of Findekáno's knees cracking in ways Nelyo never wished to hear again. Deep, resonating crunching filled the air. “Ai, Findekáno, don't do that.”

“How about you fold yourself together on that tiny chair then? Just until Turukáno has finished sorting his vegetables by colour.” offered Findekáno, undeterred by his cousin cringing at the noise he was able to produce.

“Ai, that sounds dreadful,” called Nelyo. “Stop it!”

Finwë hummed, “We shall need to get you a bigger chair. It was so very kind of you to stay with your brother but your parents will not be pleased if we give you back crooked.”

Nelyo snorted, “If this is the result, I agree.”

“I can do it with my elbows too, wanna hear?” asked Findekáno and already knew the answer.

Now looking utterly mortified, Nelyo gave a shrill whine that cracked in the middle as the sound plummeted down a cliff. “Please stop. Rather than doing that, perhaps we should go on a walk? Please? You are driving me to madness.”

Findekáno nodded, turned to gulp the last of his tea and, for good measure, cracked his jaw. When Nelyo shoved him and whined at the horrible noise, Findekáno laughed impishly.

Indis, finally done with the cracking and the popping and the awful snapping sounds, chased them off before she poured Finwë and herself tea.

* * *

“Haruni!” called Irissë when she saw Indis sitting at the tea table. Both she and Finwë sat at the now nearly empty table, everyone else had left to pass the time.

Indis turned to greet her granddaughter back and nearly choked on her tea, far less delighted to see her. “Child, why are you so dirty?”

Irissë looked at Tyelko who was nearly as clean as they had been before leaving; Merely some grass stains on his knees marred his appearance. Then Irissë turned, “We were hunting!”

“Hunting where? The castle middens? Do not answer, I do not wish to know.” She gagged but composed herself. Finwë, who sat a little further away, held two fingers to his nostrils to pinch them close.

“Your father will throw a fit if he sees you like this,” Indis sighed, drank her tea and stood.“I will take care of this,” said Indis and brought a weary hand to her temples, “And then I will lie down, I feel faint.”

Finwë smiled and made no move to rise himself; The situation was well in hand, it seemed. “Of course, my dear.”

Indis, perfectly poised and internally screaming, beckoned her granddaughter to follow her, “Come along, we shall get you cleaned up.”

“Oh...” groused Irissë but followed dutifully. “Can Tyelko come too?”

“Tyelko will keep your grandfather company."

“Oh...” She turned and called over her shoulder, “Don't start without me, Tyelko!”

Tyelko could not wave, hands full as they were. “I won't.”

Finwë and Tyelko watched them leave and for a moment there was silence.

“Did you have a nice adventure?” asked Finwë as he pushed a plate with a single scone towards Tyelkormo.

“Yes,” said Tyelko but remained tight-lipped and fidgeted on his chair. He held his little bag with both hands, as if afraid it would vanish the moment he let down his guard.

“Oh?” asked Finwë and smiled at his grandson's desperate attempt to keep whatever secret the two had.

Tyelko looked at the scone and then at his full hands. His brow furrowed as he contemplated this dilemma. Thoughtful, he nodded but did not look at Finwë. “Yes.”

“How very nice. Your brothers and cousins have vanished over yonder, leaving me all alone. How glad I am to have you here, indyo.”

Tyelko gave him a wide, bright smile and he shifted the bag into one hand so he could devour his scone.

“We have a great surprise for you, Haru,” said Tyelko in reply and a very pleased smile graced his lips.

* * *

Finwë had to admire the stalwart determination Tyelko kept up. He had promised to wait for Irissë and no matter how much he wished to proceed, he prevailed.

Twice he had nearly blabbed and every time he had caught himself and puffed his cheeks out. Finwë did not laugh, such resolute gumption needed to be shown the proper recognition, not be made fun of. Not to mention that it would have hurt Tyelko's feelings fiercely and that was truly the last thing Finwë wanted.

But how Tyelko slumped in relief when Irissë came bounding back, no longer coated in grime and muck and instead once more looking like a proper lady.

“Finally!” called Tyelko as both of them clambered into Finwë's lap. “We brought something for you.”

Finwë smiled.

And then the bag was opened and Finwë continued to smile. It kept him from screaming.

* * *

“And this one is a treehopper. It has funny things on his back; See?” asked Tyelko when Irissë handed him the next monstrosity. Being neat and tidy, with a pretty ribbon in her hair did not stop her from thrusting her hand up to the elbow into their makeshift bag to unearth monstrosities too terrible to speak of.

Finwë indeed did see. He saw entirely too much for his taste and stuffed the feeble whimper back where it wished to break from his throat. There was no one to safe him anyway. All others had left, leaving Finwë to deal with this. Why was there no one to safe him?

Tyelkormo, never one to be deterred, sat the bug squarely onto Finwë's chest for safekeeping, where it crawled along the fine stitchings of Finwë's robes. It was far too big a bug for Finwë's tastes, frankly.

Finwë dug his fingers so hard into the armrest, the wood underneath creaked softly. But he did not cease to smile and listen attentively for he would not crush his grandchild's joy by screaming and doing something as rude as flinging the ever growing menagerie, including Tyelko and Irissë, from his lap. Already five large beetles, some with horns and some with gnashing mandibles had begun to scale him. They wandered around and hooked their tiny –yet far too large-- legs into his tunic as they bumbled about.

Irissë looked into her makeshift bag where they kept their menagerie full of horrific delights, “Oh, Tyelko, did you see where the big sticky bug went?” _Oh, Valar have mercy..._

Tyelkormo turned his head from where he had been busy examining the now half dozen or so bugs already crawling about. “The really big one?”

“Uh-huh. You don't think he ran away? It was so difficult to get him here...

Finwë prayed. For what or to whom, he was not even certain any longer.

* * *

In between this ever growing exercise in patience, Irissë went off to take a nap with her father who stood off to the side. Nolofinwe could not see the distress his father was in and suspected nothing amiss. Unconcerned by the sudden lack of his friend, Tyelko merely redoubled his attention on Finwë.

How Finwë wished to not be so polite and concerned about his grandson's precious, fragile feelings.

“I shan't even ask,” said Fëanáro and Finwë, who felt his prayers had been answered, held back a wild, elated sob of gratitude that would have betrayed his fraying sanity.

Tyelko wiggled around in his father's arms, though long learned practice on Fëanáro's part made escape impossible. “No!”

“That is quite enough insanity for now,” said Fëanáro and pried Tyelko away. “Thank you for today,” said Fëanáro, beheld his father who looked as if one had dragged him out of a cave before he padded Tyelko's head. “I shall be along shortly; Say goodbye to Haru.”

Tyelkormo waved at Finwë and bounced off, “Bye-bye, Haru!”

Finwë waved back, serenely smiling right until Tyelkormo vanished behind the hedge and out of sight. Then, nearly catapulting out of his chair, he brushed the insects from his robes, praying to all Valar that none had gotten in through the sleeves or stars forbid the collar.

Fëanáro, long since numb to bugs by the bucket load, came to his aid and picked a large horned beetle from Finwë's shirt front. “Well? Still not regretting putting up with the princely brood?” he asked and set it aside to focus his attention upon the few remaining ones.

Though he squeaked once in utter relief, Finwë found his last shreds of composure and forced them back into a merely slightly cracked facade of calm. “Of course not, darling son of mine. Whyever would I?"

“I would not have the foggiest,” said Fëanáro as he watched the last beetle scurry off. It was as if nothing had ever been wrong. Safe for the faint sheen of cold sweat on Finwë's brow, but otherwise all was well.

“Thankee for your help; It came truly in the nick of time,” Finwë said and folded his hands over one another so the long sleeves hid them from sight.

“Think nothing of it; Nerdanel and I found the house quite too silent all of a sudden. So I think I shall take them home for now—How much sugar did they have, before I forget?” asked Fëanáro.

“Ah-- perhaps a tad more than what is _strictly_ necessary, but--”

Fëanáro rolled his eyes but did not comment. Perhaps he deemed that his father had suffered enough for now. Finwë certainly thought so.

They bid each other farewell and Finwë waved them as they set out towards home.

With the excitement over, Finwë returned to his tea. Surely Indis would return soon and he would have quite the tale to tell her. Why, he against a horde of dreadful beasts, what an idea. His chest felt fuzzy and warm, even the bugs had not been able to dampen the pleased feeling he now held.

Until the silence was once more disturbed; There was a yowl of surprise coming from the patio where Nolofinwe had napped.

“The sticky bug!” called Irissë a moment later, sounding endlessly pleased that she had found out where the giant monster had vanished to. “Haru, look what I found!"

But Finwë had already fled, the clatter of his teacup rattling to a halt on the saucer the only thing indicating that he had even been there at all.

**Author's Note:**

> [The sticky bug friend](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Phobaeticus_serratipes)


End file.
